


The Colonel in the Kitchen with the Clontarf

by foldingpaperfigures



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, IT COULD GET SMUTTY. IT COULD. MAYBE.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:10:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingpaperfigures/pseuds/foldingpaperfigures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper thought Jim from IT was a sweet guy - a bit pale, a bit Irish and a bit cute. Safe. Secure.<br/>But safe, secure men don't have tall handsome men to do their bidding and look after their girlfriends, do they?<br/>Molly Hooper has never met anyone like Sebastian Moran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Colonel in the Kitchen with the Clontarf

 

Molly Hooper took another sip of the heady red wine to calm herself.

Not that she needed to be nervous - Jim was the nicest bloke she'd dated in a long while, and he'd disappeared upstairs to get her another jacket to apologise for his heating being broken. He was lovely.

His house was lovely, too. Looking around, Molly noticed an assortment of expensive looking gadgets littering the room - the massive television, the fancy computer and the sleek chrome switches that she assumed controlled the lights and heating. Privately, she wondered whether she'd have been better off getting into the IT career if it paid this well.

She took another sip of wine, crossing her legs and settling back into the leather lounge.

 

Jim was… nice. He was sweet, and cute and thoughtful. He'd brought her a bouquet of tulips on their last date and told her stories of life in the Irish countryside. Molly found herself drawn into the little tales of Jim and his cousins, laughing at the image of a smaller Irishman tying his cousin to a tree in order to steal her horse and go for a ride.

He'd always insisted on paying for dinner - they'd been out three times, now, and two of those had involved dinner at an upperclass restaurant in Soho.

Molly smiled at the thought, swilling her wine a little in her glass.

 

Three sharp raps at the front door caused Molly to pause, mid sip. She frowned. It was 10pm. People didn't knock on other people's doors at 10pm. But then again.. That was just her. Maybe Jim had friends that came around at late hours. She shrugged.

''Molly, would you mind getting that?'' A soft Irish voice called down the stairs, muffled by the distance.

''Ah, sure. No worries.'' Molly stood, placing her glass on the coaster on the coffee table, and padded over to the front door.

''Hel- Hi?''

If Molly had still been drinking her wine, she would have choked on it. Standing in front of her was, probably, the largest man she'd ever seen in her life. Not overweight - far from it - but he was Sherlock's height, possibly a little taller, and broader than about two of the slender detective.

The man looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and a curious smile.

''Jim in?''

Molly picked her jaw up from the floor and blinked a few times.

''Uh, yeah. He's um, he's upstairs. Do you.. Do you want to come in?''

Molly didn't know the etiquette for these things, but he clearly knew Jim. She stepped out of the way, letting him through the door.

''Thanks.''

He shrugged himself out of his jacket, hanging it up on a spare peg (so he'd been here before, said an observational part of Molly) and then wandering through the hall and into the lounge room.

Molly followed, nervously twisting her hands. She wasn't sure what to do - did she offer him a drink? Ask him his name? How he knew Jim? That was rude, wasn't it? Without realising it, Molly was chewing her lower lip as she thought.

The blonde man flopped himself onto the couch, watching the nervous woman and laughing quietly to himself.

''The name's Sebastian.'' He extended his hand towards Molly, leaning over the coffee table to look up at her with a crooked grin.

Molly took his hand and shook it quickly. ''Molly.''

Sebastian's grin widened. ''Molly? Bos- Jim's lady? Nice t'meet you.''

Molly blushed. ''I-ah. I suppose. Yes.'' She laughed nervously, her eyes darting towards the stairs. ''You're a.. friend of Jim's?''

Sebastian laughed as well, leaning back and raking his eyes over the pretty pathologist appreciatively. Jim sure knew how to pick 'em.

''I guess y'could say that. We..' He paused, still smiling and searching for the right word. ''Help each other out. We work together.''

Molly nodded, a light frown etched on her forehead. ''So.. You work in IT as well? I've never seen you about the hospital.'' She tried to smile. ''I'm sure I would've remembered you.''

Sebastian was quite the memorable figure. Tall, broad and with sandy blonde hair that was slightly too long to be sensible for any physical profession, blue eyes and a solid tan. And, of course, the scar. A long, pale scar stood out from his tanned skin, running from his ear and down his neck, disappearing under his white cotton shirt.

''Don't work at the hospital, no.'' Sebastian shook his head, running a large hand through his hair.

Molly was tempted to ask _where_ then, exactly, he and and Jim worked, but left it in favour of offering Sebastian a drink.

''Jim should be down in a second. He's, ah, just getting a jumper for me. Would you like, ah, some wine?'' She gestured towards her own half full glass. ''There's a bottle in the kitchen.''

Sebastian glanced from the glass to Molly, and shrugged.

''Jim's got some Clontarf in the cupboard. I left it here last time.'' He pulled himself up from the lounge and brushed past Molly, entering the kitchen and fixing himself a drink.

 

Molly sank down onto the armchair, crossing her legs and absentmindedly reaching for her drink. So. She'd met one of Jim's.. friends? She wasn't sure. He seemed.. nice. He was nice looking, certainly, if not a bit scary, but definitely.. Quite fit. Not that there was anything wrong with how Jim looked - he was sweet looking, pale and short. But Sebastian… Molly shook her head and took a long sip of her wine.

 

In the kitchen, Sebastian was rummaging through the high cupboard, searching for the bottle of Clontarf he'd left the last time he and Jim had had a little meeting. He congratulated himself on covering his slip - first, almost calling Jim 'Boss' and second, remembering that Jim worked in IT at St. Barts.

Clontarf, right at the back. Irish bastard'd probably worked out that Sebastian would want it back. Cheapskate, trying to hide it.

Sebastian grinned and poured himself a glass, setting the bottle out on the bench in plain sight and heading back to the living room.

 

By the time he'd made his way back, Jim had returned from upstairs and was fussing over Molly with a disgusting beige sweater. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the Irishman, smirking as he took a silent sip of his whiskey.

''Sebastian. Always a pleasure.'' Jim nodded across at the blonde man, daring him to make mention of his casual attire and live to tell the tale.

''And you, Jim.'' Sebastian raised his glass and tipped it gently in Jim's direction. ''Any particular reason m'here?''

 

Molly watched the exchange with curious eyes. The blonde man - Sebastian - seemed to be amused, almost as though he was laughing quietly at Jim. She felt herself redden. Was he laughing at her? Jim was talking, though, and petting her shoulders as he spoke.

''I wanted you to meet Miss Molly.'' He squeezed her shoulders gently. Sebastian nodded.

''We introduced ourselves earlier.'' Another sip of whiskey. This time, Jim nodded.

''I need you to.. take care of her. When I can't.''

Molly looked up at Jim, confused and a little annoyed. What did he mean, ''look after''? She was perfectly capable of looking after herself and she was about to open her mouth to say so when Sebastian cut her off.

"D'you really think that's the wisest idea? M'not exactly inconspicuous.'' He chuckled.

''Don't need you to be. Just need to make sure that Molly here is looked after. Make sure she's not followed home, her flat's safe. The standard sort of thing. Can't be too careful.'' Jim leant down and pressed a kiss to Molly's forehead, an expensive cologne lingering in the airspace.

Molly was really confused now. Not only by the kiss - they'd held hands, yes, and shared quick pecks on the cheek but her forehead seemed so much more.. intimate. She was also confused by the words he was saying. Who was this Sebastian? Some kind of, she almost laughed, hired goon?

''Jim,'' She started, making to stand up, ''That's really not necessary. It's sweet, but I'm perfectl-''

''Shush, Molly. Not while I'm talking.'' Jim dismissed her with a wave of his hand and, shocked, Molly actually dissolved into silence.

Sebastian laughed at the wave of Jim's hand.

''Surely that's no way t'treat a lady?''

''Be quiet, Sebastian.'' Jim snapped. Sebastian held up his free hand and raised his eyebrows.

Biting her lip, Molly looked between the two men. She'd never seen Jim like this before. He was snappy and cantankerous, and was it just her, or did Jim's accent seem to become broader the moment Sebastian had begun speaking to him? Molly desperately, desperately wanted to excuse herself and leave but Jim's hands rested on her shoulders seemed to weigh her down.

''….be gone for two weeks, they need me in Dublin.'' Molly had zoned out a little in her worry, but Jim hadn't spoken to her. He was addressing Sebastian, who stood at attention and nodded ever so slightly to the information as it was being processed. Jim finished his sentence and looked down at Molly, his pursed lips changing into a sweet Jim-style smile.

''Sebastian'll take you home, now.''

''He will?''

"I will?''

Jim glared first down at Molly and then across at Sebastian, who looked just as shocked as the pathologist.

''I'm busy tomorrow, I need to get some rest. Dinner was lovely, Molly.'' He kissed her forehead again and then yawned dramatically. ''Sebastian will let you out.''

He fixed his dark eyes on the blonde man again, as though daring him to contradict.

Sebastian sighed.

''G'night, Bo- Jim.''

 


	2. The Lady in the Lexus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's not dumb - there has to be some sort of reason Jim's got her being escorted places. Boys don't just do that. Do they?

From the moment Jim ascended the stairs, Sebastian had given Molly about twenty seconds to grab her handbag. He himself ducked into the kitchen and reclaimed his bottle of Clontarf. He deserved it.

“Ready?” He held open the front door expectantly. Meekly, Molly nodded and slipped past him.  Outside, it was freezing, even with Jim’s sweater draped over her shoulders. Molly folded her arms over herself, shivering slightly, as she waited for the tall blonde man to join her on the street.

"It’s the black Lexus.” Sebastian bounded down the two front steps with the keys in his hand, a press from a button setting off a pair of indicators as he unlocked a sleek vehicle two spaces up from Jim’s front door.

A Lexus? Molly fought the urge to whistle lowly. She’d never been in a car this expensive, if you didn’t count the limousine that the girls from Med School had hired for their graduation night. But a  _Lexus._ _  
_Molly might not have not known much about cars, but she certainly knew that she liked this one – whether it was being driven by a mysterious man or not.

“Y’gonna get in, or are y’just gonna stare at it all night?” Sebastian’s voice broke Molly’s admiration.  
She hesitated. Was she really about to get into a, admittedly very nice, car with a man she didn’t know? Wasn’t that the first thing she’d learnt in that course that Justine from Pharmacy had made her go to?  
Molly paused, her hand hovering towards the door handle.  
''Thank you, very much, for offering, but I'll be fine to catch a cab ho-.'' Molly started, before Sebastian silenced her with a raised palm.  
'Please." He sighed, "Just get in. It makes it easier for everyone."

  
Sebastian had to admit, Molly being alive and entrusted in his hands was a welcome change from the usual bodies piled into his backseat. Jim found some sick entertainment in making sure that bodies were fully dressed with a neat little shot between the eyes and putting them in the back of the Lexus.  
Sebastian had nearly had a heart attack the first time.

Sliding in, the blonde man reached over and rapped on the window of the passenger door. Molly was still deliberating, her hand rested on the handle. He rolled his eyes.  
Women.

The window rolled down slowly, Sebastian's finger lazily pressed on the recline.  
"If you don't get in, y'know I'll just follow your cab, yeah?"  
Molly pursed her lips and glanced down the dark street. At least if she was in the car, she wouldn't have to worry about rain, or hailing a cab, or spending money. Besides, this Sebastian.. He was a friend of Jim's. Molly looked back at the man in the car.  
''I live in Pond Avenue. It's past St. Barts."

****

 

They’d been driving in silence for nearly ten minutes, the only noise being the occasional click of the indicators as Sebastian turned.

In the passenger seat, Molly occupied herself by watching the familiar scenery flash past, lit by streetlights and the crescent moon. The city looked different by night. Not in a bad way, it was just more.. mysterious, Molly thought. More romantic and like something she’d read in a novel. Another mysterious element was the tall man next to her. He certainly looked like something out of a romance novel – blonde and tanned, somehow. Older than her, Molly would’ve guessed.

“Jim a good boyfriend?”  
Sebastian’s question almost made Molly jump out of her skin, filling the whole car with his deep voice. She knitted her eyebrows together lightly, glancing across at Sebastian.  
“I.. ah. Yes? I suppose.” She cleared her throat and ran her fingers through her hair. “He’s not.. He’s not really my boyfriend, though.”  
Sebastian didn’t reply, but arched one eyebrow.  
“Well, ah.” Molly continued, “We’ve been out three times. But, um, he hasn’t said anything about being exclusive, or anything.” She laughed nervously.

That was news to Sebastian. Sebastian knew that Jim didn’t do anything by halves – unless it was paying him – and he doubted whether the Irishman knew that Molly thought like that. Sebastian’s reply was a low hum in the back of his throat.

They continued the journey in silence; Molly occasionally glancing across at Sebastian and Sebastian astutely keeping his eyes on the road.

“It’s the next street on the left.” Molly supplied after a few minutes, nodding her head towards a street opening almost completely concealed in the dark. The car slowed down and rolled into Molly’s street, Sebastian surveying each townhouse as they cruised slowly. He pulled the car to a stop outside a nondescript brownstone building.

“This one?”

“How did you know?” Molly was a little impressed, but also a little scared. Did he already know her address? Was she being spied on?  
Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and gave her a small smile.  
“Lucky guess.”

It was the first smile Molly had seen from Sebastian that resembled something genuine, and not aimed at scaring her.

“Uh-huh.” She smiled back quickly, a little unsure. ‘’Well, thanks for the lift, I guess.” She scooped her handbag up off of the floor and hitched it over her shoulder, opening the car door.

“My pleasure.” Sebastian didn’t sound too pleased.  
Molly nodded and bit her lip lightly as she closed the car door with a soft thud. Within thirty seconds of her stepping up onto the footpath, the Lexus had pulled away, roaring off into the London darkness.

****

 

_[2.34am]_

_RECEIVED: 0717 418266_

 

_Make sure your doors are locked. – SM_

 

Molly awoke with a start to the soft beep of an incoming text message. Fumbling in the darkness, she unlocked the smart phone and peered at the bright light. SM? Who was – Oh. Molly frowned a little. Sebastian Moran? How had he gotten her number? Why wouldn’t her doors be locked? Molly wasn’t stupid. Still, she swung her feet from the bed and into her slippers, slowly trudging down the hall and towards the front door.

As though he was standing next to her, Molly muttered to herself. “See? It’s locke-“ She turned the door handle with a yawn, her heart freezing as the wooden door swung open easily. She _always_ locked her door. Always. She was Miss Safety.

How had Sebastian known tha-? She shook the thought from her head and pounding pulse, locking the door and checking it twice.

 

_[2.38am]_

_TO: JIM_

_We really need to talk. – Molly_

 

 

 


	3. The Man in the Morgue

Jim hadn’t replied to the text. Which, Molly tried to assure herself, was perfectly fine. He was probably busy – he’d said that last night, hadn’t he? He’d told Sebastian that he was busy.

She kept glancing at her phone, jiggling it nervously in the pocket of her lab coat. He wasn’t at Bart’s today, either, so Molly couldn’t just waltz down to IT and demand an explanation for Sebastian’s strange text. It really had been a strange text.  Almost psychic.

She’d managed to catch a few hours sleep, finally drifting off into a light doze after triple checking every door and window in the flat. Only one other had been open – the bathroom window, but that was always open because it was too difficult to open and close on a regular basis. Still, Molly had hiked her night dress up and balanced precariously on the edge of the bath to firmly close and lock it. She wasn’t going to be taking any chances.

When her phone did buzz, the petite pathologist nearly carved something unnecessary into Mr. Stevens as she jerked. The wobbly scalpel work earned her a raised eyebrow from the nurse (Christine, Molly was quite sure her name was) to which she responded with a shaky laugh and apology.

“Sorry. I was just, y’kn-“

“Boyfriend?” Christine’s confused eyebrow turned into a suggestive one. Molly bit her lip and looked away, back to Mr. Steven’s open chest.

“Sort of. Yes. I suppose. Did you say he was on Medical 2?”

“Yeah, Seb was doctor in charge. Sad to see him go.”

“Seb?” Molly’s head jerked upwards instantly, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, Sebastian McMahon. “ Christine eyed her warily, a sly smile sneaking across her face. “Who’s “Seb”, then? Not McMahon, I hope.” Christine pulled a face.

“Seb? No one. No. No one at all. Just a –“ What was Sebastian? “Just someone I know.” Sort of. Molly shrugged it off, willing the flush in her cheeks to die down.

“Anyway. I can’t see anything that’d be considered negligence. I wouldn’t expect that the coroner will want to do anything more, and you can tell Seb- Dr. McMahon that he needn’t worry about anything. Ordinary complications. Geriatric.” Molly gave Christine a tight smile, still very aware of her phone in her pocket. Was it Jim? Or was it Sebastian with another strangely perceptive text? Molly cleared her throat and reached for the sheet, avoiding the probing glance of the redheaded nurse.

“Right. So. You can, uh, go and tell Dr. McMahon that… Yeah. All good.”

She peeled her gloves off, throwing them in the bin, as Christine gave Mr. Steven’s a once over look and shrugged, seemingly content.

“Fair enough. I’ll be off, then. Tell Justine if you see her that I’ve got her copy of Fifty Shades, and if she wants it back, she’ll have to come up and see me when I’m on next.” Christine nodded and checked her watch, before heading for the heavy metal doors that kept the morgue closed off from wandering visitors.

Molly let out a sigh.

This was ridiculous. She was _being_ ridiculous. With a deep breath, Molly closed her eyes and fished into her pocket for the phone.

 

_[1.55pm]_   
_RECEIVED: +6 7899817239_

_You need to speak to security about having the morgue –_

 

“About having the morgue made more secure.”

The end of the text message was read out in a deep voice that certainly didn’t belong to Molly. Sebastian Moran arched an eyebrow, reading over her shoulder.

“What the-? Oh, my god. You _scared_ me.” Molly’s heart was pounding. She whirled around, her lab coat swishing behind her as she frowned fiercely up at the blond man. “Don’t _do_ that! I could’ve been holding something! Like an organ, or chemicals, or a scalpe-“

“Relax.” Sebastian looked over Molly’s head, half pushing her out of the way. She was cute, he thought – particularly when she was cranky – and too cute for Jim, but he wasn’t paid to debate the suitability of his boss and his job. Besides, Jim wasn’t in it for anything more than information on the Holmes bloke, Sebastian was willing to bet. Jim didn’t do relationships, sexual or romantic. Not his thing.

Poor Molly. He spared her a quick glance down, her arms folded across her chest and her little mouth set in a puckered frown.

He grinned.

“Just comin’ to check up on you. You were s’posed to be at lunch twenty minutes ago, and you weren’t.”

Molly just stared at him, mouth falling from frown to agape. “You’re following me.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’m keeping an eye on you.”

The blond gave her a quick smile, wolfish and full of teeth, before he turned and continued to observe the big, clinical room. To his trained eyes, he could see the vantage points and possible camera locations in seconds.

“They keep tabs on you lot down here?” He moved towards a shelf that housed an assortment of titanium jars, each with a scribbled label on them.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Molly puffed her chest out a little, frowning. “I’m one of the senior pathologists down here, _actually_ , so I’m the one that grants access. But that’s not what I asked you – why are you following me?”

“Never asked me that.” Sebastian pointed out, still peering into the corner of the shelves. “And I only asked about tabs, because there’s a -,” He grimaced and reached to where the shelf met the wall, twisting his fingers before he pulled out a tiny accessory, small enough to fit on one finger. “A camera here.” He turned around, offering his hand out. “See?”

“A camera?” Molly’s entire annoyed façade slipped away and she took three steps over to the blond man, her eyes wide. “A camera. In here?” The camera was tiny and white, the same colour as the wall. There was no way Molly would’ve seen it, and the thought sent a shiver up her spine. She could feel her breathing becoming a little quickened.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Sebastian shuffled around his pocket with his spare hand and fished out a plastic seal bag, siphoning the tiny camera into it. “Why are you being watched?”

Molly nodded dumbly.

“No idea.  Not yet. But you are, and Jim’s worried, which is why I’m here.”

It was a lot to take in. Here, this man of few words stood and told her that she was being watched by someone that her boyfriend (if that’s what he was) was afraid of.

It was sweet, she supposed, in a way that Jim cared, but it begged the question as to _why._ Normal people weren’t watched.

“Y’keep thinkin’ so hard and your brain’ll burst out and I’ll have to put it in a jar.” Sebastian commented after a minute of silence, fiddling with another cupboard. He turned and flashed her a quick grin. Sebastian could hear the thoughts ticking over in her head – _Jim, watch, camera, Jim, Sebastian, safety._ It was all quite natural, Sebastian thought, and she was handling it far better than he’d thought she would.

“Well, I got what I came for, so I’ll be on my way.”

Molly nodded again. Her mouth had stopped working, she was sure, because it refused to open, refused to demand an explanation – a _proper_ explanation – about this whole mess.

She watched the large man make his way through the room, far too graceful for his height and shoulder width, with her breath held.

 ***

The rest of the day flew past in a flurry of bodies, fluids and concerned questions about her health. For the third time since Sebastian had left the morgue, Molly assured Justine, the bubbly pharmacist, that she was fine – it was just a headache, she insisted.

A headache brought on by the twisting feeling in her stomach that there was just something so incredibly wrong. So incredibly wrong that nice, comfortable, _sweet_ Jim had friends like Sebastian – dangerous, stern and _hot._ Molly felt awful, she really did, because Jim was _lovely…_ But Sebastian was a bad boy. She could tell from the half smirks and the rolled up sleeves, the packet of cigarettes she’d seen neatly pressed into his jeans. Whereas Jim was… Jim was _safe_.

 ***

Jim still hadn’t texted her back by the time she got home. 15 hours, by Molly’s count. Not that she _was_ counting.

No text from Sebastian either. Not that she cared.

By six o’clock, her nerves were on edge – her phone seemed to stare at her silently, teasing her by not buzzing. It wasn’t like Jim not to text back – especially not, she would’ve thought, if the text had contained the ominous four words, “ _We need to talk”._

By a quarter past six, Molly couldn’t stand it any longer – she poured herself a half glass of shiraz and got into her pyjamas, feet curled up beneath her on the couch and phone in hand.

 

_[ **DRAFT** ] Hey, Jim! Just texting to see if you got my text from last night? Well, this morning, really, not that it mat_

_[ **DRAFT** ] Jim, just wondering if  you got my message about us needing to ta_

_[ **DRAFT** ] Who the hell is Sebastian Mo_

_[ **DRAFT** ] Please text me ba_

 

_[6.32pm]_

_TO: JIM_

_Jim, a lot of weird things have happened in the last day, and most of them have involved your friend from last night. Please text me back and let me know what’s going on? I’m getting a bit freaked out. - Molly_

 

 


End file.
